


Danger Days Can be Dangerous

by PoisonMyParty



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 21:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10816983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonMyParty/pseuds/PoisonMyParty
Summary: Gerard Way didn't trust him. He didn't trust his actions, his speech, and more important, his goddamn smile. But despite his initial suspicions, Party Poison couldn't help but be drawn to the oh-so-captivating Fun Ghoul. Some things just couldn't be controlled.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Hello, Killjoys

~X~

Party Poison.

That was what most people called him. He had come up with the pseudonym after Better Living Industries had gotten a hold of the name of a fellow rebel --Bob Bryar-- and killed his family members. As a result, Bob went mad and ran off into the desert. When he formed the Killjoys with other like-minded people, he insisted upon being referred to as Party Poison and nothing else. The others never told him their names either; there was only Jet Star, Kobra Kid, and of course, Fun Ghoul.

Gerard had been keeping his eye on Fun Ghoul. Not because of interest, but because of suspicion. There was something about his fellow Killjoy that put him on edge, however he couldn't place what it was. Despite that, he was determined to find out.

The feeling originally surfaced during the Killjoys’ first encounter with a group of Draculoids. Fun Ghoul had smiled right at him, aimed, and pulled his trigger. The burst of plasma had whizzed past his head and struck one of the vampirish men, but Gerard had questioned that smile every day since. _Who smiles when they're about to kill someone?_ he had silently pondered.

He doubted that Fun Ghoul was in league with BLI or anything of the sort; according to him, the mega corporation had abducted his scientist of a father. The tragic story seemed sincere, although Gerard would occasionally wonder if Fun Ghoul’s father was helping to track down the Killjoys.

He didn't like suspecting Fun Ghoul of anything, whatever it turned out to be. The man was the nicest of them all, compared to the sarcasm of Kobra Kid or Party Poison’s own judgemental silence. And even though it was the source of all of the suspicions, he had a nice smile.

Gerard let out a yawn that he hadn't realized he'd been containing. The sun just set, and a fire crackled beside him, a beacon in the darkness of the desert. Without a word, he leaned over from his seat in the sand to gather handfuls of the fine particles into his hand and toss them onto the heat source. He continued to do this until the fire was extinguished.

A fire at night, as Katniss Everdeen once said, could be deadly. Of course, the Draculoids would have to be in the area in order to spot the light in the first place, however that didn't mean the drones that flew by nightly wouldn't see it. Luckily, the drones were mere prototypes, and therefore wouldn't be able to make out the three tents or the car parked next to them.

As usual, Grace had already fallen asleep in the backseat of the car, with Jet Star snoring soundly in the front. Grace had seemed to like Jet Star the most, for reasons unbeknownst to Gerard. Out of them all, he expected her to appreciate Fun Ghoul’s cheerfulness the most, but she and Jet Star had a connection of sorts, and so he was voted to watch over her at all times.

The other Killjoys were just fine sleeping in small tents outside of the car. The hot coals from the dead fire were divided between the three tents, as the desert could drop to shockingly low temperatures at night. The coals helped keep the cold at bay.

Fun Ghoul followed Party Poison’s movements with his eyes. “Thanks,” he said after the latter snuffed out the fire.

Gerard’s reply came in the form of a curt nod. He leaned back on his elbows, grinding his jacket sleeves into the dusty ground. He said nothing, preferring the silence over conversation.

Kobra Kid inched towards the coals, holding his hands out as if reaching for the last piece of bacon -- which, by the way, was a luxury none of them had enjoyed for a long while.

“Why'd you have to kill it so early?” he asked bitterly.

Gerard shifted his gaze over to the speaker. “Could be drones nearby.”

Kobra Kid rolled his eyes. “There could also be an earthquake. I'm cold.”

“Your funeral.”

Fun Ghoul’s attention switched between the two for a moment. “He's looking out for us, Kobra.”  
Like always, Fun Ghoul was quick to defend Party Poison, something Gerard both welcomed and questioned.

Kobra sighed. “Alright, whatever. I'm going to bed.” Using his heat-resistant gloves, he grabbed a few charred, glowing pieces of wood from the makeshift fire pit and laid them carefully near his tent before ducking into the structure. That left Fun Ghoul and Party Poison alone.

Gerard wasn't quite ready to fall asleep yet, but Fun Ghoul bid him goodnight with a light-hearted grin before retreating to his tent. He didn't mind being by himself, but he figured some extra rest wouldn't do him any harm. He realized that Fun Ghoul had forgotten to take his share of embers, so he set a few down next to his tent before putting a couple next to his own.

Sleep didn't come easily, however, once he was lying inside the sleeping bag. Despite the layers, the desert’s icy chill swept into the tent and reached down his back like a frostbitten hand, and the approaching winter would only mean more freezing nightly temperatures. On the bright side, the days would be a lot cooler.

Clutching the fabric of the sleeping bag close to his chest, Gerard’s focus turned to Fun Ghoul. He genuinely liked the guy, but his paranoia made it impossible for him to form a real friendship. In fact, Fun Ghoul wasn't the only one. It had taken Party Poison several weeks to even begin to trust the others. A betrayal from many years before had left two kinds of scars; one that ran down his back and another that ran across his mind.

_After what seemed like hours of tossing and turning, Gerard drifted off to sleep. His dreams tended to be vivid and meaningful, and that night’s was no exception._

_“Give it up, Gerard.” Fun Ghoul’s voice was uncharacteristically mocking, and the words sounded strange coming from his lips._

_Panic overtook him as he spun to see the other Killjoy dual wielding pistols; one was aimed at him, and the other was aimed at Gerard’s mother._

_“How do you know my name?” he yelled, feeling fear for the first time in ages. The man in front of him merely chuckled, and Gerard frantically repeated the demand. “How do you know my name?”_

_“It's you or her, Gerard,” Fun Ghoul answered, ignoring the plea. “Ten seconds.”_

_“Just tell me!”_

_“Nine.”_

_“You're insane. You're insane!”_

_“Seven.”_

_Gerard drew his own gun from his belt, but Fun Ghoul shot his shoulder, causing him to drop the weapon and cry out._

_There was a dark and eerie laugh coming from Fun Ghoul. “Time’s up, Gerard.” One of the guns was leveled at his mother’s head._

_His mother was stone faced as she died; Gerard did not have the same grim determination as she when Fun Ghoul put a laser through his heart._

The dream had disturbed him more than usual, and he woke up with a gasp. Nightmares weren't uncommon, but they usually didn't involve anyone he was close to. To combine his suspicions of Fun Ghoul with his love for his mother, his subconscious was a cruel thing.

With a shake of his head, Gerard emerged from his tent. Much to his dismay, Fun Ghoul was awake as well, munching happily on a sun-baked protein bar. He absentmindedly wondered if it was possibly to enjoy the flavorless mass of grain, but if anyone could, it would be Fun Ghoul.

“Hungry?”

It was a simple, one-word question, but the kindness embedded in the query startled Gerard. He blinked twice as if clearing away a haze. “No, thank you.”

Fun Ghoul smiled. “Not even for stale Fruit Loops?” he asked, holding out a plastic bag filled with the multi-colored cereal.

Gerard contained a laugh. “Fine.” If he didn't eat them, then Jet Star definitely would, and Fruit Loops had been a favorite of Gerard’s since childhood. Even if they were stale.

As Gerard quietly chewed his breakfast, Fun Ghoul started packing up the tents. He didn't have a chance to object before both of their tents were stowed away in a bag. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Fun Ghoul smiled.

What is with all the smiles lately? Gerard mused to himself. Out loud, he said, “Is Jet Star up?”

Fun Ghoul nodded. “He's playing Go Fish with Grace in the car.”

“Of course.”

“You okay, Party Poison?”

Gerard blinked. “Just tired.” _Tired of being fucking paranoid._

“Do you wanna wake up Kobra Kid, or should I?”

He shrugged. “Be my guest.”

Fun Ghoul slowly approached Kobra Kid’s tent. He reached inside, tapping at the sleeping man’s feet. When that didn't work, he decided to simply collapse the tent on him.

“What the--!” Kobra Kid fumbled for a minute, and the shape of his limbs stuck out from the tent. “Hey!”

Fun Ghoul laughed. “Good morning!”

After about thirty seconds, Kobra Kid freed himself from the trap. “What the hell, man?”

This prompted another chuckle. “It's harmless.”

Gerard observed the two with mild amusement as Kobra Kid begrudgingly rolled up his tent. Like Fun Ghoul had said, it was a harmless prank, but that didn't mean Kobra didn't need a rude awakening every now and then. He was shaken from his thoughts by the sound of a car engine, and he looked over to see Jet Star waving at them from the 1979 Pontiac Firebird. Gerard looked at the watch that was clasped around his wrist: 7:30 AM. It was surprisingly late, as they were typically “on the road” by seven o’clock.

He and Fun Ghoul shoved the Killjoys’ supplies into the trunk before Gerard took his usual seat behind the wheel. Fun Ghoul hopped into the passenger seat, and Jet Star, Kobra Kid, and Grace squished into the back. Gerard moved the gear into drive and pushed down on the gas pedal.

With the wind blowing through the open windows of the car, most of the Killjoys chatted with each other, the occasional deep laugh from Jet Star or light giggle from Grace. Both Fun Ghoul and Kobra Kid added to the conversation, but Gerard kept silent. His eyes left the road only once. It wasn't that he was a bad driver or that he needed to concentrate, but it was easier and far more preferable to speaking with the others; that is, until Fun Ghoul broke the silence.

“How about you, Party Poison?”

Gerard frowned. “Huh?” He obviously hadn't been paying attention.

“Favorite food,” Fun Ghoul gently reminded him.

He didn't put much thought into his answer. “Fruit Loops.”

Grace laughed, and Fun Ghoul grinned. “No wonder you ate them stale,” he simpered.

Gerard was grateful when the discussion turned away from him. He disliked being the center of attention; the tips of his ears tended to redden, and it was an embarrassing downhill journey from there.

He stole a glance at the man beside him. Fun Ghoul was laughing along with the others, presumably about some joke that Gerard had missed out on. He hated to admit it, but he enjoyed it when Fun Ghoul smiled. _It’s_ … Gerard struggled to apply a word to what he was thinking. _Cute_.

A cloud of dust to his left set off alarm bells in his head. Cloaked inside the billowing sand was a black car, and inside the car were Draculoids.

Gerard sped up, holding on to his sense of calm. The others had apparently noticed the shift in speed, but no one questioned it as they saw the other vehicle in pursuit. In fact, everyone but Grace pulled out their guns and started shooting.

Once the Draculoids were directly behind them, Fun Ghoul stood up, poking through the sunroof. Kobra Kid handed him a rocket launcher, and the following projectile blew one of the other car’s tires. It swerved back and forth before running into a cluster of cacti.

Already, the ever-shrinking Draculoids in the rear-view mirror were scrambling to change out their tire. It wouldn't be long before they succeeded, and Gerard pushed the car to its max speed. He told himself that it was only a few more miles until safety, but true safety would never stay for long.

Fun Ghoul slid back into the seat, setting the rocket launcher in the space in front of him. “Nice driving!”

It took him a moment to register the compliment. “Nice shooting,” he responded.

“Thanks.” Another grin.

 _He's not shy with those smiles, is he?_ Gerard still wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

He didn't have much time to think about it, however, as two more Draculoid cars were approaching from both ahead and behind. They were faster than the one before, and faster than the Killjoys’ car. Gerard clenched his jaw, anticipating the inevitably grim outcome.

A burst of laser fire shattered the front windshield, and he flinched slightly as the glass rained down upon him. Jet Star shielded Grace with his body as the back windshield followed suit. They had survived more dangerous odds, though.

Suddenly, Gerard slammed on the brake. The Killjoys in the car lurched against the seat belts -- although Gerard had to hold back Fun Ghoul with his arm, as he hadn't been strapped in after firing the rocket launcher. He unclipped his belt and leaned against the dashboard, carefully taking aim. Two shots later, two Draculoids had fallen. Following his lead, the others aided him until most of the BLI enforcers had been disposed off.

One managed to get a shot at Gerard’s arm, and he couldn't hold back a grunt of pain. But with adrenaline fueling him, it was easy to counter the blast with one of his own, and revenge came in the form of another dead Draculoid.

He shared a look with Fun Ghoul; the fellow Killjoy spotted Gerard’s injury, and reached toward him with a tentative hand. Gerard, however, opened the door and got out. “Fun Ghoul. You're driving.” He switched seats with Fun Ghoul, whose eyes clearly communicated concern. Gerard shook his head. “Just drive. We're almost there.”

Fun Ghoul wordlessly complied, but Party Poison noticed a few worried looks. It didn't matter, he figured; he'd be alright soon. As alright as anyone could be while living the life he lived.


	2. Chapter Two: Dead Pegasus

Chapter Two: Dead Pegasus

~X~

  
His arm hurt. That was natural, as plasma burns tended to bring a sting that stuck around for a while. As Gerard pressed the opposite hand against his shoulder, he supposed that he was lucky it was more of a graze, else his shooting arm would have been permanently damaged.

He felt a tiny hand poking his good shoulder, and Gerard turned to see Grace tapping on the fabric of his jacket. “Are you okay?”  
  
Gerard nodded. “Peachy.”

“But you got shot,” she argued. Her distress over his condition was nothing short of adorable.

“I've been shot before,” he returned. “Besides, it barely hit me.”

She was skeptical, but seemed semi-satisfied with his answer and slid back into the middle seat between Kobra Kid and Jet Star.

Gerard sighed. He hated being on the run every day, but it was all worth it. According to Dr. Death, they just needed to keep Grace safe until she was older. Then she would be able to singlehandedly take down Better Living Industries. The minute that cursed company was out of his life, he would be free.

He let his lips curl into a smile upon seeing a small building off in the distance. Dead Pegasus, the safe-haven of a gas station. Inside the mini mart was a signal emitter that fried BLI drones and androids, allowing the Killjoys to recuperate without the fear of being attacked. Unlike the Better Living Industries stations that they occasionally looted, Dead Pegasus had a diner that accompanied the store.

Within a minute, Fun Ghoul parked the car next to a gas pump. Gerard usually filled the car’s tank with gasoline, but Kobra Kid quickly took over the position, allowing Gerard to head inside for medical attention. As the group entered the mini mart, a bell rung above the door. The android clerk waved at the Killjoys from the desk.

“Killjoys!” he greeted them eagerly. “Welcome back!”

Gerard allowed himself a weary smile. “Steven, where’s the first aid?”

Steven glanced at Gerard’s arm. “That's quite a nasty malfunction, Party Poison,” he answered with hardly a hint of concern. “Come.”

He followed Steven through a door behind the front counter into the back room. With careful fingers, the robot applied a disinfectant to Gerard’s arm and then wrapped it in a bandage. “You should be fine in a day or two.”

“Thanks, Steven.”

Once, the android had been called “Seven” and was working in a BLI factory. After the Killjoys had burned it to the ground, he was liberated and chose to work out in the desert, fighting the mega corporation from behind the scenes.

“Is Doctor Death here?”

Steven shook his head, artificial blond locks waving along with the motion. “He left for Battery City a few days ago.”

Gerard nodded. “Oh.”

“He left an address for a safe house.” Steven handed him a slip of paper.

He quickly read over the address several times and committed it to memory. “How’s Elly?” he asked, trying to make small talk.

Elly was another android. Technically, androids were not recognized as people and couldn't legally marry, but Elly and Steven were as close to married as AIs could get. Gerard was never one for romance, but he viewed their relationship as sweet.

“She's alright,” Steven replied. His robotic eyes sparkled as he spoke of her. “Off in Utah protesting for android rights.”

“Good for her.” The one obvious difference, Gerard noticed, between humans and androids was that the machines’ eyes were brighter; they didn't light up, per se, but the pupils were shinier. It was the first thing he had searched for when he met the other Killjoys.

“You must be hungry for some real food, eh?”

He nodded. “Starving, actually.” Not long ago, he had eaten a bag of stale fruit loops, but that hadn't satisfied him. Dead Pegasus had quality food, as far as diners in the middle of nowhere went.

“There's some food on the table. Your friends should already be digging in.” Steven waved him off with a laugh. “Go on.”

Gerard thanked him and brushed through the doorway; as Steven had said, there were several plates of breakfast food placed on a booth that was near the door. Pancakes, French toast, eggs, orange juice. He didn't bother with utensils, as it had been so long since he ate proper food. One could only eat cereal and military rations for so long.

The food was satisfying, and the orange juice was almost revitalizing. Unfortunately, they had to be moving soon, lest the Dead Pegasus be discovered by BLI. Gerard took the liberty of packing the remaining food into the car along with snacks, water, and soda from the mini mart. He laughed when Grace came outside with a bag of fruit, insisting that they still needed to be healthy.

After a quick goodbye from Steven, the Killjoys climbed into the car. Painkillers from the first aid kit had dulled the ache from his arm, and he decided it was safe for him to drive. Soon enough, they were on the road again with higher spirits than before.

With luck, Battery City was only a day’s drive away. Without it, it could take a week.

At about two in the afternoon, Gerard noticed a glint in the rear view mirror. He leaned over, looking more closely at the glass.

“Shit.” He thought they'd have at least a day before the Draculoids found them again, but the universe loved to mess with Gerard’s head.

“We've got company.” He looked over at Fun Ghoul. “Mind taking care of them?”

Fun Ghoul shook his head with a grin. “Not at all.” As he poked through the sunroof, Kobra Kid and Jet Star leaned out the windows with their guns. Three steady bolts of plasma soared towards the rapidly-approaching car. Once again, Gerard questioned Fun Ghoul’s eagerness towards violence, but he presently didn't mind so long as they could shake the Draculoids from their tail. He swerved the car to the left suddenly, narrowly missing a projectile of sorts -- perhaps a missile?

After approximately ten minutes, an explosion sounded behind them. One quick glance told him that the Draculoids’ car was reduced to a smoking ruin alongside a cactus. For the second time that day, Fun Ghoul sank down into the passenger seat, throwing Gerard a charming smile. Gerard only tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

Was Fun Ghoul attractive?

  
It was the million-dollar question. Actually, if Gerard put some thought into it, the question was not whether or not Fun Ghoul was attractive. No.

Was Gerard attracted to Fun Ghoul?

Lately, Gerard had been noticing Fun Ghoul staring at him on several different occasions. Paranoia demanded that he automatically assume he was watching him to gather information as an infiltrator. But as the days passed, he wondered if that was truly the case. Maybe Fun Ghoul was just a nice person after all.

Or maybe not.

Gerard didn’t want that. He had stopped getting attached to people when he was ten.

“Party Poison?” It was Fun Ghoul.

He was jerked from his thoughts by the sound of his pseudonym. “Hmm?”

“Are you alright?”

Gerard noticed his knuckles turned white, and so he loosened his hold on the steering wheel. “I’m good.”

“You sure? Because you--”

He cut him off. “I said _I’m good_.” Gerard’s reaction was more hostile than he would’ve liked. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Fun Ghoul just smiled that damned smile of his. “It’s fine. You can talk to me, you know.”

_No, I can’t_ , Gerard thought to himself. _I can’t fucking talk to people._ “I’m okay though. I promise.”

“Alright then.” Fun Ghoul leaned back in the seat, but Gerard could tell that he wasn’t content. In a sense, it was like handling a spooked animal. The man had done as much as he could, but he wouldn’t pry any further for fear of the animal bolting.

Gerard glanced at a map next to the dashboard. They were about one hundred miles from Battery City, much farther than he had originally suspected. But he did know that they would be there tomorrow. He was certain of it.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Because I Don’t Know How

 

 

Sundown.

Gerard wasn’t sure if he loathed it or longed for it.

In that way, sundown was like Fun Ghoul.

He had no idea how within hours he had gone from suspicion to admiration. Such was the way of life. Life would go on; it wasn’t dependent on the roller coaster that was Party Poison’s emotional state. At least, it would go on until the sun imploded. _Good luck with that, future Earthlings._

Also independent of Gerard, said sun would rise and set whether he wanted it to or not. On one hand, daylight meant distance. On the other, a lack thereof meant peace and quiet -- something he valued very much and was looking forward to.

He didn’t normally talk to the others. Sure, they were good people --as far as he knew-- but talking wasn’t his style. He liked to keep his mouth shut and observe. That evening in particular, Grace procured a bag of marshmallows front the Dead Pegasus mini mart. The Killjoys were indeed in for a treat, and Gerard even enjoyed the sticky, gooey desserts. It was truly remarkable the impact that a dessert could have on someone's mood.

Come nightfall, Kobra Kid snuffed out the fire and scurried off to bed as Fun Ghoul finished pitching the tents. Oddly enough, Gerard himself was feeling exhausted for once, and was actually eager to be getting some much-needed rest. The sleeping bag in his tent felt more comfortable than usual, and he rested his head against the tiny camping pillow. Nights were never perfect in the desert, but he felt calm. Slowly, he drifted off into an undisturbed sleep.

Undisturbed, that is, until someone started tapping his feet in the middle of the night. Ever the light sleeper, Gerard lifted his head groggily. Typically, he would be alert and on his toes, but he hadn't slept properly for days, so he gave himself a free pass.

“Party Poison? I, uh, need your help.”

Gerard sat up, rubbing his eyes. “What is it, Fun Ghoul?”

“I, uh… my tent…” Fun Ghoul stammered for a few more seconds.

“Your tent..?” Gerard asked expectantly.

“It caught on fire. Burned completely.”

He hadn't been expecting that. “It's completely gone?”

Fun Ghoul nodded sheepishly. “I must've put the coals too close.”

Party Poison nodded and muttered, “Must have.”

“Don't worry, I put the fire out quickly. I don't think any drones saw it.”

That wasn't what Gerard was worried about.

He was shifting his weight between feet awkwardly as he looked down into the tent. “Do you mind if I sleep with you?” Realizing the way he had phrased the question, Fun Ghoul immediately corrected himself. “That is, in your tent? I considered waking up Kobra, but he snores.” He offered a half smile.

Gerard squinted at his comrade for a moment before sighing. “There's not much room, but it's better than freezing to death.”

Fun Ghoul beamed. “Thank you!” He apparently had managed to rescue his sleeping bag, since as Gerard moved over, he laid the fabric in the empty spot next to him. That definitely spared them from more awkwardness.

A few minutes passed, and Fun Ghoul spoke quietly. “I meant to ask you earlier…” he began. “Party Poison, you've been acting strange recently.”

Gerard rolled over to face him. “I’m acting strange? What about you?”

Fun Ghoul shrugged. “Me?” He seemed amused rather than insulted. “What, have you been watching me?”

He had. “Yes, but it's not what you think it is.”

“Then enlighten me.” Fun Ghoul grinned.

Gerard knew confronting a suspected spy would alert them, of course. At this point, however, he doubted Fun Ghoul could escape in the closed quarters. Besides, he really wanted him to _not_ be a spy, so he didn't really care.

“I'm suspicious of you,” he answered after a long pause. “I think you're a spy.”

Once again, Fun Ghoul didn't seem to mind the accusation. “And what makes you think that?”

He realized then that he didn't have any valid evidence. “Just a feeling. And you… smile a lot…” He would've slapped himself had Fun Ghoul been absent.

Fun Ghoul tilted his head endearingly in what could only be confusion. “You think because I smile at you a lot that I'm a spy?”

Gerard leaned back against his pillow in exasperation. “What is it, then?”

“You're interesting, Party Poison. I like you.”

He just rose his eyebrows. “You what?”

“You can trust me, and I'll prove it.” Fun Ghoul was sitting up now, and he motioned for Gerard to do so as well. “Stick out your hand.”

Gerard was cautious. “Why?”

“Just do it.”

Hesitantly, he extended his hand, and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion when Fun Ghoul shook his hand.

“I'm Frank,” he said. “Frank Iero.”

Shock was the only word capable of describing what Gerard was feeling. He could hardly believe that Fun Ghoul… _Frank_ … had told him his name. His goddamn name, of all things. Gerard knew that in the event of capture, he'd easily give up the name if his own life was in jeopardy. Wouldn't he?

He didn't get a chance to respond, because Frank had already turned away and settled down. Judging by his slow breathing patterns, the man was already asleep, but Gerard doubted that. Disoriented, he lay down and stared at the upward-sloping wall of the tent.

Frank.

The name bounced around in his head for some time --he didn't know how long-- and he decided that it was a nice name. It represented Fun Ghoul well.

Gerard finally managed to fall back asleep, and to his relief, he wasn't plagued by nightmares that night. He wouldn't say it was peaceful, but it was getting there.

~X~

He woke up before Frank did and came to the realization that until they got a new tent, they'd be sharing a sleeping space for a while. Gerard silently cursed his misfortune, but he was unaware of a tiny part of him that was glad.

Gerard was also the first one awake. He peered into the tinted windows of their car to see both Grace and Jet Star sleeping soundly. Kobra Kid was also snoring loudly, and Frank hadn't moved since last night.

He was still in awe. It was a bold move on Frank’s part; how did Frank know that he could trust Gerard? The answer: he didn't. Gerard certainly wouldn't entrust Frank with his name. Not yet, anyway. It was a mystery best left unsolved for the time being.

He pulled a box of matches from his jacket pocket and struck one, setting ablaze a pile of logs inside the ring of stones that served as a temporary fire pit. Using some tin foil as a pan, he reheated a stack of pancakes from the Dead Pegasus. Gerard figured that he may as well make breakfast for the others since he was the first awake.

The second Killjoy to rise was Kobra Kid. He stepped out of his tent with arms outstretched, yawning. “Mornin’,” he said quietly, half asleep. One of his eyebrows was arched in confusion. “You made pancakes?”

“I heated them up,” Gerard corrected with a shrug. “You want any?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Kobra Kid grabbed one from the tin foil. He glanced over at the charred ruins of Frank’s tent. “Where's Fun Ghoul?”

“My tent.”

Kobra Kid frowned. “So you guys are…” He made an obscene gesture with his hands.

Gerard just narrowed his eyes. “No, you idiot. His tent burned down.”

“Mhm.” He laughed. “Likely story.”

“That's because it's true,” Gerard said. “Don't make me regret making breakfast.”

“You mean re-heating breakfast.”

Gerard sighed. “Yeah. Fine.” He left his seat in the sand and walked over to the Killjoys’ car. Grace was sleeping peacefully, and Jet Star was slumped against the passenger door. Careful not to wake the girl, he opened the passenger door, and Jet Star’s upper body fell from the car.

“I smell pancakes,” he remarked sleepily, gazing up at Gerard whilst hanging upside-down. “Are they good?”

Gerard nodded. “Yes.” He hadn't eaten any that morning, but they were good the day before.

“Cool.” Jet Star pulled himself upright and stepped out into the sand. “We should go soon.”

Another nod. “You eat. I'll wake up Fun Ghoul. Let Grace sleep in for a little longer.”

“Thanks.” Jet Star went to go eat pancakes alongside Kobra Kid.

Gerard peered into his tent. Frank wore a smile even as he slept. But he didn't want to be the creeper who watched people sleep, so he tapped his foot against Frank’s toes. “Fun Ghoul,” he said. “Wake up.”

Frank blinked his eyes open. “Good morning.”

“Rise and shine.”

He grinned. “Thank you, Party Poison.”

“For what?” Gerard asked curiously.

“Letting me sleep here,” Fran clarified. “You didn't have to, but you did.” He ducked his head as he stood and stepped out.

I “Of course I did.” He shrugged. “Hurry up and eat before we leave.”

Gerard turned and walked away before Frank responded. He didn't intend to be rude, but he was starting to think that talking to him could be poisonous.

He only remembered that Grace was asleep in the car after he turned the ignition. However, she seemed to already be awake as she sat upright, her curly hair all frizzed.

“Hitting the road again?” she asked.

“Yeah. I didn't mean to wake you.”

Grace smiled. “It's okay. It's late anyway.” She rested her head on the back of the front seat. “I was awake last night when Fun Ghoul burnt down his tent,” she said with a giggle. “It was pretty funny to watch him try to put it out.”

Gerard was genuinely amused. “Was it?”

She nodded. “I also saw him go into your tent,” she added. “That was nice of you.”

“Just to clear things up, we didn't--”

She laughed. “I know! I'm just saying it was nice.”

“Right.” Gerard opened the door. “There are pancakes if you want them.”

“You know,” she said as he was leaving, “You guys would be good together.”

Gerard rolled his eyes and shut the door, grateful for the fact that Grace wouldn't see his ears turning red. _Is she right, though?_ he wondered. _Would we?_ He shook his head, clearing those thoughts from his mind. He'd have plenty of time to think once they arrived at the safe house in Battery City.


	4. Chapter 4

 Chapter Four: Not-so-Safe House

  
Once they were driving again, Gerard felt more at peace with the fresh air blowing on his face. They had made good time, and he figured they'd reach the Battery City within half an hour. Frank was surprisingly silent next to him, but Kobra Kid and Jet Star were both as talkative as ever.

A few miles out from the city, Gerard pulled the car into a gas station. It was a simple, four-pump gas station, and it didn't even have a mini mart. It was definitely no Dead Pegasus, but he knew that the unmanned facility would serve its purpose.

“Fun Ghoul,” he said, “Can you help me with the gas?”

“Sure.” Frank grinned and got out of the car as Gerard did.

Once they were behind the car and filling the gas tank, Gerard stared at Fun Ghoul for a moment.

“Frank,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, “You know that just because I know your name now doesn't mean I'll tell you mine. Right?”

Frank gave a slight laugh. “Right. I'd never expect you to do that.”

“And you know you won't get anything in return?”

“That's not how it works,” he insisted with a larger smile.

“Then how does it work?” Gerard asked, keeping his voice steady.

“It's a show of good faith,” he replied, his voice gentle and welcoming. “One step towards a genuine trust between the two of us.”

“And… that's it?”

Frank shrugged. “Well, a guy can hope.”

Gerard squinted at him. “I meant, no ulterior motives?”

“None.”

“That’s…” He struggled to think of something to say, but came up with nothing. “Okay.”

“Is that all you wanted?” Frank inquired. “You don’t really need help, right?”

Gerard shook his head. “I can finish it myself.”

“If you need anything, I’ll be in the car.” As Fun Ghoul walked away, he added, “And I mean anything.”

“Thanks.” He suspected Frank was out of earshot, but he was grateful anyway. Luckily, the gas station was an old-fashioned kind that accepted payment after use, and since nobody was employed there, he didn’t bother paying. _Besides_ , he thought, _it’s going towards a good cause_. Not that he felt he needed to justify himself to his conscience.

Once they were driving again, Grace was the first to point out the outline of skyscrapers in the distance. In Battery City, there were no one or two-story homes. Anyone who lived there lived in an apartment, which was typically shared with other families, or on the street. Unless, of course, one was wealthy or an employee of Better Living Industries. Gerard considered himself lucky to have been raised in one of the Eastern Districts’ lower slums. He had always envied the rich, who resided safely in penthouses that loomed over the city, but he was thankful to have avoided the Western District -- for most of his life anyway.

Gerard had known that the Killjoys would be visiting his home city, but he hadn’t expected to experience a feeling of anxiety and horrid anticipation about returning to his place of birth. He couldn’t bring himself to even look at the silhouette of the city, and he kept his eyes cast down at the faded yellow lines on the road.

Battery City was definitely not the safest place to live, but there was a wall that ran around the border of the urban area. Only certain points had security checkpoints, and the “terrorist” group known as the Killjoys would definitely not be allowed in. For that reason, they had civilian disguises in the trunk. Not only that, but their car had an added modification that allowed the paint to change into a dull brown with the touch of a button.

He stopped the car about a mile away so that they could exchange their clothing for something more inconspicuous. Gerard himself was satisfied with a button down shirt and jeans. His bright red hair could possibly draw attention, but he didn't think it would be an issue.

Obviously, the guards at the checkpoint would question why a young girl was traveling with four grown men, so Grace hid in the back seat under a reflective tarp. The material it was made from concealed the wearer from life-form scanners, devices that were common throughout BLI security.

Gerard kept his fingers crossed --metaphorically-- as the car pulled up to the security booth. He lowered the car window and looked up at the BLI security officer.

“Identification?” she asked, the voice clearly female behind the mask. Gerard couldn't tell if she was human or an android.

“Yes ma’am, right here.” He procured his identification card with the fake name, and paused to collect the cards from the others. When he showed the officer, she seemed convinced that “Timothy Nelson” was a real, legal citizen.

She gave a small nod of acknowledgement. “May I ask why you wish to enter the city?”

“My friends and I are just returning from San Equus. We were visiting my grandmother. She's old, you see, and can't get around the house easily. We brought her some flowers, athough I don't think she liked them very much. Lilies are her favorite, but we could only find roses at--”

“Thank you. Have a nice day.”

Gerard smirked to himself as he drove away. Bombard someone with enough details, and they might not realize that equus is the Latin word for “horse”.

The city air rolled in through the open window, and he coughed at the thick haze of smog and pollution. He had forgotten how filthy the city was, and wasn't eager to explore its full extent. However, after years of living there in his youth, he was used to it within seconds. In the back seat, Grace sat up, pinching her nose at the stench. “Gross.”

Gerard laughed when he noticed the other Killjoys breathing through their shirts. “What, you guys have never been to the city?”

“Sure I have,” Jet Star said. “Doesn't mean I like the smell. Do you?”

“Don't mind it,” he said simply. “Breathed this stuff for years.”

“Did you live here?”

Gerard glanced back at Jet Star. “No, I worked for BLI,” he drawled sarcastically. “Grew up in the Eastern District, actually.”

“I thought you lived in San Equus.”

San Equus was the fake city name he used whenever he was in a pinch, or just didn't feel like answering. “That's Spanish and Latin. It means Saint Horse. Not a real place, Jet Star.”

“Oh.” Jet Star laughed. “Okay.”

He rolled his eyes and started looking for the address given to him by Steven. There was little traffic on the road, due to the fact that anyone with enough money to afford a car was rich, and there were walkways connecting everything on the upper levels, meaning the wealthy wouldn't have to mingle with the street crowd. A few of the more stable families could buy an automobile, but most people in the city walked to where they needed to go, just as Gerard had done years before.

Glancing up at the street name, he realized two things. One, that the safe house was located a few more blocks away. Two, that they were in the Eastern District.

He didn't know how he didn't recognize it at first, but when he saw the low-hanging awning of Paris Florists, he knew exactly where he was. He found his eyes drifting along the first-level homes, absentmindedly searching for his own. While he doubted returning home would be a good idea, it had been years, and he was unexpectedly feeling homesick.

 _487 13th Avenue_. Gerard saw the warehouse and cringed at how unwelcoming it seemed. Then again, maybe that was the point. He parked the car in the alley next to it. “This is it.”

“You guys ready?” Frank asked quietly. “This could be the most important moment of our lives.”

“Let's go already,” Kobra Kid said impatiently, getting out of the car. “The sooner we’re inside, the better.”

Gerard agreed with that logic as he pulled open a side door to the warehouse. Inside were numerous rows of wooden crates that were stacked onto each other, as well as some large metal boxes. He looked around, his gaze passing over the hardware. A few saws, some lumber, and loose nails. But no Doctor Death. Not even Show Pony, his rollerblading companion.

Something didn't feel right. He didn't hear anything, but that didn't mean there wasn't anyone lurking in the shadows. Sparing a glance back at the door, Gerard didn't like how far from the door they were getting. He planted his feet and looked at the others. Only Fun Ghoul seemed to mirror his concern.

“We should go,” he whispered, his voice hardly audible. “ _Now_.”

He moved backward with caution, stepping lightly as if the floor would explode. Gerard drew his gun from its holster, and just as he did so, a laser bolt whizzed past his head and left a burn mark on the wall behind him. The Killjoys leapt into action quickly, taking cover behind wooden crates. He returned fire upon seeing a large group of Draculoids and BLI agents.

One blast grazed his jacket, and he responded by shooting the attacker in the chest. Luckily, none of the material was torn.

“Party Poison!” Before he could look over at the sound of Frank’s voice, the same speaker barreled into him, knocking him over and pushing him behind a different crate. Once he regained his composure, he saw a plasma burn at the spot where he had been taking cover.

“Thanks,” he said, quickly gunning down a Draculoid.

“Anytime.” Frank threw him a wink before dashing off to some other sheltered position, shooting at the men who fired at him.

Gerard had to admire the determination with which Fun Ghoul fought, and while he had recently found his cheerful attitude on the battlefield concerning, he was now glad that the man was full of smiles. The way that he would dodge his enemy’s lasers and quickly send back a flurry was captivating and just so mesmerizing to watch.

“Yo, Party Poison!” Kobra Kid shouted at him. “Stop staring at Fun Ghoul’s ass and start shooting!”

He was tempted to shoot Kobra Kid, but he shrugged it off and switched on the mindless part of his brain that usually activated automatically in the middle of a gunfight.

The skirmish continued this way for a long while, and the steady stream of Draculoids and BLI agents seemed endless. It was as if every time they killed one, two more replaced the fallen. And then something unexpected happened.

Draculoids were not known for their stealth. In fact, most had heavy footsteps and sounded like a cow in a Frito factory. But one managed to sneak behind the Killjoys, and a blow to the back of the head sent Gerard sprawling into unconsciousness.

~X~

His vision was blurry when he blinked his eyes open. It took him a few minutes to stumble to his feet and even longer to be able to see clearly. When he could do so, he noticed that everyone was missing. His only company was the lifeless bodies that lay around the warehouse.

 _Where is everyone?_ he wondered, frowning. Gerard grabbed his gun from the floor and pushed through the exit. To his dismay, the car wasn't there either. The Killjoys were nowhere in sight. _Frank_ was nowhere in sight.

He tried telling himself not to panic, but old memories of being lost in the Eastern District resurfaced. He desperately hoped the others hadn't fled to the Western side of Battery City; it was there that gangs casually shot people in the streets, thievery was a common sight, and anarchy reigned.

He couldn't imagine why his supposed friends would abandon him so quickly. He hid his gun away as he walked down the street, and he was pausing to look over the selection at Paris Florists when he heard a familiar voice.

“Gerard?”

He spun around and stared blankly at the thin woman standing in front of him. She had a few graying hairs amongst her dark brown locks, and she wore an apron that hung from her neck.

“Excuse me, I think you have the wrong person.” He began to walk away, trying to politely excuse himself.

But the woman reached out and grabbed his shoulder. He stiffened at the sudden grasp and looked back at the woman.

“Yes, yes. Gerard, Donna’s son?”

He narrowed his eyes. “How the hell do you know me?”

The woman laughed quietly. “You used to come down to the flower shop as a boy,” she told him. “I remember when you dyed your hair red when you were eleven.”

Gerard’s expression softened, but his muscles remained clenched. “Mrs. Paris, right? Stephanie Paris?”

She nodded, clearly happy that he remembered. “You do remember! Still tense as ever, I see.”

He shrugged as her hand left his shoulder. “It's not like I don't have a good reason.”

Stephanie chuckled. “Not much has changed then. Oh, you used to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, Gerard. You still do, looks like.” She gave him a sideways glance. “What are you up to that's got you so stressed out?”

“Taking care of myself,” he said, only half lying. “It's hard to stay alive, some days.”

She seemed surprised. “You aren't living down near the Bullpen, are you?”

The Bullpen was a street name for the Western District. “No, I’m actually outside of the city.”

“So that's where you've been all these years.” Stephanie scratched her head. “You know, your ma has been looking for you.”

Of course she had. Gerard knew him leaving Battery City had crushed his mother, that being the reason he had snuck out after dark. But he had needed to get away from everything he loved, lest it be destroyed.

“I was talking to her earlier,” he lied. “It was nice to see her again.”

“Good, good,” she said. “Well, you tell your ma I said hello, won't you?”

He nodded. “Nice seeing you.”

“Stay safe, Gerard.”

As she uttered those words, Gerard heard footsteps running towards him from behind. He turned immediately, aiming his gun, but he relaxed upon seeing Frank bounding towards him.

“Thank God!” he breathed. “I thought you were dead!”

Gerard grinned. “It's pretty hard to kill me.”

Frank stood there facing him for a few moments, moving his gaze up and down Gerard’s face. Finally, he broke into a smile. “Sorry that we left, we just--”

He cut him off. “Later.”

Frank looked as if he was going to question him, but then saw the shocked woman standing behind Gerard.

“Just what sort of trouble have you gotten yourself into, Mister Way?”

A long silence followed. He sighed as she used his last name, suddenly angry that Frank now knew it, but he forced himself to respond kindly.

“Nothing that's too much, Mrs. Paris. If you'll excuse me and my friend, we really must be going.”

Frank tilted his head in confusion, but Gerard took hold of his hand and pulled him away as he walked briskly towards an alley.

“Frank, where the fuck have you been?” Gerard demanded, irritated. “Why aren't the others with you?”

He visibly flinched at the colorful language. “After you went down,” he explained, “the Draculoids just kept coming in waves. They forced us out of the warehouse and we had to run back into the city. I came back to get you once we were safe, and you were talking to… Mrs. Paris.”

The story made sense. “Well, thanks for coming back for me,” Gerard said. “And sorry for shouting at you.”

Frank waved it off. “It's fine.” He shrugged. “How do you know that woman?”

“Friend of my mother’s.” He laughed. “I can't believe she recognized me.”

“Is she… is your mum still…”

“Yes, Frank, she's alive. Probably still living in our shithole of an apartment.” Gerard felt bad for abandoning his mom, but in the war he was fighting, it was essential that his family ties were untraceable.

“What about your dad?”

He shook his head. “What's with all the personal questions?”

Frank smiled apologetically. “Sorry.”

“Don't be.” Gerard sighed. “I'll answer them later. Where are the others?”

“Hiding in an empty house.” Frank pointed down the alley. “That way.”

Gerard followed him through the city, staying close as they entered the Western District -- for Frank’s safety, of course, and not his own peace of mind. He ignored the sounds of gunshots and looked past the probably-innocent civilians getting mugged. He noticed Frank’s agitation, but Gerard placed a hand on his shoulder.

“We’re not cops, Frank, and we’re not vigilantes,” he said quietly. “You just have to ignore it.”

“I know, you're right.” He sighed and looked over at Gerard. “Did you live here?”

“No.” He kept walking. “It was a little better than this.”

Eventually they came to a small one-story house --not a common sight-- where Frank stepped in through a smashed window. Gerard followed him to find the other Killjoys, and Grace, gathered in the only room the house had.

“Party Poison!” Grace yelled, quick to give him a hug. He ruffled her hair playfully in response with a laugh.

“You guys didn't miss me too much, did you?”

Kobra Kid let out a humph. “Not at all.”

“So, the safehouse was a trap. What's the plan?”

“I was thinking we drive as far away from the city as possible,” Jet Star suggested.

Frank interjected. “Like Party Poison said, the safehouse was a trap. Someone had to set it up. As far as I know, only one person besides Doctor Death and Show Pony knew the address.”

Jet Star snapped his fingers. “Steven.”

Gerard frowned. “You think? I thought he was loyal. And what about Elly?”

“Elly was noticeably absent from the Dead Pegasus,” Frank argued. “Steven said she was in Utah. What if BLI got a hold of her and it using her as leverage?”

“We have to go there, then,” Gerard said.

Kobra Kid narrowed his eyes. “That's impractical. We were just there.”

“Why don't we split up?” Jet Star offered. “Some of us can go to Dead Pegasus and some of us can stay in the city.”

Gerard was about to object when e realized that Jet Star’s idea made sense. Now that Better Living Industries knew they were in the city, the Killjoys, and more importantly, Grace, wouldn't be safe leaving. If they could find somewhere to hole up, then they could wait until whoever was going to the Dead Pegasus returned.

“That's genius,” he said finally. “Jet Star, you should probably stay with Grace.”

Kobra waved a hand. “I'll stay. God knows they'd all be dead if Fun Ghoul stayed with them.”

Frank just laughed. “What are you implying?”

“You're too nice. This is a dangerous city.”

Gerard agreed with his sentiments, and he privately enjoyed the fact that Kobra had volunteered so quickly.

“I suppose you're right. Me and Party Poison are going, then?”

Kobra Kid nodded. “Should we stay in here?”

“Yes,” Gerard answered. “But don't stay in the same place for too long. Find somewhere else to hide every twelve hours or so.”

“Twelve h--” Jet Star began before interrupting himself. “Okay, got it. You'd better get moving.”

Frank grinned. “See you guys later. Oh, and we’re taking the car.”

Kobra Kid smirked at them. “I trust you two won't need chaperoning?”

Gerard would've flipped him off if Grace hadn't been there. He merely glared at the blond-haired man and followed Frank out of the house.

“Ready for this?”

Gerard shrugged. “How hard can it be?”

“Famous last words.” Frank laughed. “This time, I'll drive. You deserve to relax.”

“Alright, Frank,” he said as they found the car behind the house. Gerard settled into the passenger seat, feeling his heart warm at Fun Ghoul’s contagious smile. The trip to confront a probably-not-evil robot who had still probably betrayed them could turn out to be good for his relationship with Frank. Or rather, it could be the beginning of one.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: Personal Questions

With Frank driving, Gerard was indeed able to relax. Not only that, but with it being just the two of them in the car, there was a wonderful atmosphere around them. He couldn't explain what it was, but he liked it.

Getting out of the city had been easier than expected. They had convinced a lowlife to drive their car outside of the wall while they snuck out from a breach that Gerard had discovered years ago. They had paid the driver in the promise of a favor that would never be returned.

So far, they hadn't run into any Draculoids, or anything of the sort. For a while they were just on the road in silence until Frank broke it.

“So, is Way your first or last name?”

Gerard glanced over at him. He had momentarily forgotten that Frank had been present when Mrs. Paris had used his last name. “It's my last name,” he said slowly.

Frank nodded. “It's a nice name.”

“Does this mean you want answers to the personal questions?” Gerard asked, staring at him.

“I guess so.” He shrugged.

“Why, though? Why do you want to know about my life?”

Frank looked at him, despite being the driver, although he then turned his eyes back to the road. “Because I like you, Party Poison, a lot. You've got something about you that just draws me in. If it helps, I can tell you something about me first.”

Gerard fought away a blush, because Frank had summed up his feelings almost perfectly, probably unknowingly. “If you want,” he said simply.

“Okay. Ask me something.”

He thought for a moment. “Where are you from?”

“Middle of nowhere in Nevada. As you know, my dad was some crazy scientist, so we needed to live somewhere that was far away from any other human being.” He chuckled lightly. “I don't have enough fingers to count the number of times an explosion woke me up in the middle of the night.”

“Was your mom around?”

Frank shook his head. “Never knew her. It was just me and my dad.”

Gerard grinned. “How'd you turn out to be so nice if your only company was a mad scientist?”

“I still attended school,” he explained, returning the smile. “Every morning, my dad would send me off in a remotely-operated car.”

“So you learned to be so cheery from kids at school?”

“He told me the best way to talk to girls was to be nice to them. It worked, for a while.”

Gerard felt a twinge of disappointment, and the words slipped out before he could stop them. “Are you straight?”

Frank laughed. “Oh, lord, no.” Gerard’s spirits rose again, and he hoped that Fun Ghoul hadn't noticed. “I thought I was, when I was younger. Then I got into middle school and we had to change in front of each other in the locker rooms. People caught me staring a lot.” He gave a small shrug. “Is there any reason you ask?”

Gerard’s ears reddened. “No, no reason.”

Frank hummed, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. “My turn, now. I know where you come from, but what was it like growing up in such a city like that one?”

“It was… bad. My mom and my dad always got along pretty well.” A dark memory flashed across his mind. “Until I was eight, at least.”

Frank saw the change in expression, and worry spread onto his face. “What happened?”

“My little brother was born,” he said. “I never really understood, and I still don't, but my parents were always fighting since the day little Mikey was barely a day old.” A smile grew on his lips as he remembered the toddler stumbling around on wobbly legs. Mikey would fall over, but Gerard would catch him and help him walk again. “They'd argue and yell at each other. Mostly my dad did the yelling, and my mom did the crying. It went on for two years like that.”

“Until?”

“Until my dad had enough. He grabbed Mikey and left. I followed him out of our apartment and all the way down to the Western District.” The memory burned clear as day in his mind. “I screamed profanities at him, and when I caught up, I kicked at his legs. Tried to make him give Mikey back, but he wouldn’t.”

Frank put a reassuring hand on his arm. “You don't have to talk about this if you don't want to,” he said softly.

But Gerard was on a roll. “He had a switchblade in his pocket. Cut my wrist and my back. Left me there to die.” Ten-year-old Gerard was dying in the Western District of Battery City. He remembered the intense pain and how tears had blurred his vision. Somehow, miraculously, he had dragged himself home. Their neighbor was skilled in emergency care, and with several ointments and medicines, the boy had survived. But the unexpected, hefty fee that their neighbor charged had sent them spiraling into poverty. When he explained this to Frank, he looked horrified.

“I can't believe…” Frank blinked. “How could someone do that to their own child?”

“We told everyone that he had taken Mikey to the park and never come home.” Gerard tugged at his sleeve, displaying the jagged scar on his wrist. “People saw the mark and just assumed that I cut myself. Everyone thought I was suicidal.”

To his surprise, Frank squeezed his hand comfortingly. “I'm sorry.”

Gerard looked over at Frank, seeing him in an entirely different way. After sharing their history, they had come to a new sort of intimacy almost immediately. He felt a real connection, an invisible rope that tied him to everything that was Frank Iero, not just his perfect lips.

Where did that come from? he wondered to himself. Is that what I want? When he thought about it, it seemed that the answer was yes. Right there, with Frank's hand on top of his, he really did want to kiss him.

_But Frank is driving! He could crash the car!_ Gerard had enough faith in Frank’s driving skills to put up a valid argument about his subconscious. _Just think about it._ It was his subconscious, though, and it had a point.

“Frank?” Gerard’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet for once. “Would you mind stopping the car for a moment?”

He nodded, slowing the car to a halt next to a cactus. “Are you alright?”

“Gerard,” he said suddenly. “It's Gerard. My name.”

Before he could respond, Gerard leaned forward and pressed his lips against Frank’s.

His kiss was gentle, and thankfully he didn't break it off. He seemed caught off guard, but soon Frank was kissing him back with the same eagerness that Gerard was.

It wasn't just the idea of a physical relationship that had compelled Gerard to kiss Frank. In reality, that was only a small part of it. He wanted --no, needed-- that assurance that Frank was there and wasn't going to leave him. In that moment, Frank was his and he was Frank’s.

When Gerard pulled away, it was only because of air, and Frank was searching Gerard’s face for some sort of sign. Finally, he smiled. “You don't know how long I've been waiting for that.”

Gerard’s cheeks flushed with color. “How long?”

“A while.”

“We should probably keep driving…”

“If we must,” Frank said, smiling. He put his foot on the gas pedal, and then they were moving again. “You know, I'm glad that we're dealing with our feelings… Gerard.”

“That's one way to put it,” Gerard noted with a laugh. “You say my name like it could set off a bomb.”

“It's a lovely name.”

“Thanks.” He gazed over at Frank, enjoying the adorable grin that was plastered on his face. Frank was undoubtedly something special.

“We’re almost there,” Frank said, increasing the speed of the car. “How do you think Steven will react?”

“Best case scenario, he surrenders,” Gerard answered with a shrug. “Worst case, it's an ambush.”

“Get ready.”

The Dead Pegasus appeared in the distance. Gerard pulled out his gun, and when they stopped by the mini mart he got out, followed by Frank. He stormed into the mart, flinging the door open. “Steven!”

Frank shot him a glance, one finger placed over his mouth. “He doesn't know we know,” he whispered. “Play it cool.”

Gerard knew he was right, so he stowed his gun and composed himself. “Steven, are you here?”

Instead they were greeted by Elly, Steven’s partner. “He's out back unboxing some packages,” she explained, smiling at them. “How are you two?”

“Good,” Frank replied, returning the grin. “How was Utah?”

“It was interesting, at best,” she said. “We were asking for voting rights, but we were denied them.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Ah, it's okay.” Elly shrugged. “Did you bring Grace with you? I'm dying to see her again!”

Gerard shook his head. “She's with Jet Star and Kobra Kid at our camp.”

“Oh, alright. Do you want me to get Steven for you?”

“Yes, please.”

Elly wandered off to go find the other android, leaving Frank and Gerard alone.

“Do you think she knows?” Frank asked quietly.

“No idea.”

Elly then returned with Steven, who waved at them. “Afternoon, Killjoys. What can I do for you?”

“Car trouble,” Frank explained, crafting a lie. “Jet Star is back at our camp, and I think we blew a tire.”

Steven grinned. “I can fix it right up for you. Did you drop Grace with Doctor Death?”

“The safe house was a trap,” Gerard said with a shake of his head. “She's with the others.”

“I see.” Steven grabbed a toolkit by the door and headed outside. “Which tire is it?”

Gerard and Frank both looked at each other. “The back one,” Gerard answered slowly. “On the left.”

Steven moved to the back of the car and knelt next to the tire. He looked back up at Gerard. “There's nothing wrong with it.”

“Really?” He crouched down to eye level and held his gun to Steven’s head. “Don't get up. Don't say a word.”

Elly was still inside, so that way, if she happened to also be in league with BLI, she wouldn't see what was happening and warn them. “What's going on?”

Gerard poked Steven with his gun. “I said no talking. We know that you helped BLI set up the trap in the warehouse.”

Steven moved as if to stand up, but Gerard grabbed his arm and forced him back down. “I don't know what you’re talking about!” he whisper-yelled. “You're crazy!”

“Don't play dumb,” he insisted. “What happened to Doctor Death?”

It took a few seconds, but Steven gave a mechanical sigh. “They didn't tell me where they brought him. My guess is that they’ll execute him.”

“Murder,” Gerard corrected. “Execution implies that it's legal.”

“They're practically the government, aren't they?” Steven argued. “Do whatever you want, Party Poison, just promise you won't hurt Elly.”

“Does she know?”

“Not a thing.”

Gerard narrowed his eyes. “Then she’ll be okay.”

“What are we going to do with him?” Frank asked.

“We can't just leave him,” Gerard said. “Besides, there's gotta be a way that he was transmitting signals. I'm willing to bet it's in his servos.”

Frank rose an eyebrow. “You want to rip out his mechanics?”

Despite Steven’s panicked expression, Gerard nodded. “It's the only way to find Doctor Death. And it'll stop him from making anymore transmissions.”

“Isn't that murder?”

He sighed. “Technically, yes, but it's not like we haven't killed androids before. This is for Grace’s sake.”

“I guess there's no other way.” Frank’s expression turned sour.

“There isn't.” Gerard looked at Steven, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Before you go, I need to know. Why?”

Steven wrung his hands nervously. “They offered us everything. Wealth. New lives. A child.”

“A child?” Frank echoed curiously. “How would that work?”

“It's a n-new adaptive t-technology,” he stammered. “It can build on itself and learn.”

Gerard felt a wave of guilt slam into him, even though he hadn't done anything yet. There he was, about to kill a man who had betrayed them for his family. Steven and Elly would never have been able to experience the pleasures that humans could, let alone have a child, but BLI was ready to provide them with all they needed. They'd be happier; this knowledge made what he was about to do all that much harder.

“I'm sorry, Steven,” he said. “I'm sorry that I'm depriving you of everything you ever wanted.” He knew that an android’s head contained their hard drive. He wished it could have been easier, but they were designed for their data to be hard to access. “You brought this on yourself.”

“Wait!” Steven cried. “I need you to tell Elly something once I'm gone.”

“What is it?”

“Tell her to access the communicator in the office. Dial 423, and tell the person on the other end that the roses were delivered.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Gerard asked cautiously.

“It means the job is done. Maybe she can still get what I asked for.”

He nodded. “Okay. I'll do that.”

Steven bowed his head solemnly as Gerard put one foot on the android’s back. Pulling and twisting at the same time, his head came off, followed by several electrical sparks. The loud noise prompted the mini mart door to open.

“You guys alright?” came Elly’s voice.

Frank walked around the car, approaching Elly hesitantly. “There's something you should know.”

“What is it? Are you going to be staying for a while?”

He shook his head, and Gerard could see the pained expression on his face. “I don't know how to put this delicately. Your… husband… is dead.”

She frowned. “What do you mean? What happened? You're joking, right?”

“He was working with Better Living Industries. We had no choice.”

She pushed past Frank and stormed around the car, gasping as she saw Gerard with Steven’s head in his hands.

“You murdered him?” she cried, the artificial tear ducts kicking in. “Why did you murder him?”

Gerard laid down the headless body. “He betrayed us.”

“You think I care?” Elly yelled, her manmade eyes full of anger and despair.

“No, no I don't.” Gerard sighed. “He wanted you to do something, though.”

“What was it?” she demanded.

“He said to go into the office and dial 423 into your communicator. Say that the roses were delivered.”

Elly stared at him for a few moments, before she wiped her tears and grabbed Steven’s body, dragging it inside. Gerard and Frank shared a look.

“I shouldn’t have have done that,” he said. “I feel awful.” It was the truth.

“It was necessary,” Frank responded, putting a hand on his shoulder. We should go soon.”

Gerard nodded. “Want me to drive?”

“No, no. I will.”

They each took their respective seats and, with Steven’s head stowed in the trunk, were on their way back to Battery City.

That didn't stop him from feeling the cold and unforgiving sting of guilt. It gnawed at him quietly, eating him from the inside out. The feeling seemed to taunt him, hanging around the edges of his mind as if ready to jerk back at any moment.

“Gerard.” Frank looked at him. “You can't beat yourself up about this. You did the right thing.”

“Did I?” He sighed. “They could've had a family.”

“Steven made his decision. This is for the greater good.”

“That doesn't make it easier.”

“It doesn't get easier, Gerard.” Frank shrugged. “It's part of being a Killjoy. We do the bad things so no one else has to. So that we can save everyone.”

That actually helped Gerard's inner turmoil, albeit a slight aid. He smiled back as Frank grinned, glad that he was with him. He just hoped that it was all worth it.

Frank leaned over and gently pecked Gerard’s cheek, leaving behind a warm and fuzzy sensation. Gerard settled back in his seat, content for the time being, with Frank as a human security blanket. Frank was a reassuring presence. Frank was a man who helped by just being nearby. Frank was hope.

~X~

**Okay, Killjoys! Trivia time. What's your favorite My Chemical Romance song, and why? (No, _all of them_ is not an answer).  **


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